Chapter Text
Grace wakes up with a jolt, suddenly incredibly aware but not sure why.
Instinctively, he looks for Rocky. He hasn't slept alone since Rocky hurt himself rescuing him. Sure enough, Rocky is up in his tunnel, though he also looks alert. The tools that he was clearly tinkering with while Grace was sleeping are abandoned behind him.
"Grace hear Simon too, question?"
"Simon?" Grace asks, voice mushy with sleep, blinking as he finishes sitting up. Whatever startled him awake already had him halfway there, and he doesn't even remember what he–
A shout echoes in the ship, and Grace is off his cot and on his feet instantly. And almost falls over, since he's in slippery socks and still adjusting to coming out of dreaming.
"Simon ask not to be watched when sleeping, Rocky knows that is bad, bad, bad! But Rocky listens! Simon sleeps alone, now Simon hurt!" Rocky scurries on through his tunnels towards the noise, and Grace follows at a stumbling jog.
"He's probably just having a nightmare." Grace says. He hopes that's all. Which he feels awful about as soon as the thought forms, but the alternatives are all terrible and immediately backed up by the math and physics of it in his head - a hull breach that has already sucked him out into the vacuum of space, a fall from one of the ladders that he's admittedly really good at handling one-armed but still scares Grace if he thinks about it too long, the taumoeba escaping, or–
He skids to a halt in the lab, and looks around.
Simon has taken to working until he passes out about half the nights they've spent together, so Grace isn't surprised the shouts weren't coming from the dormitory. In the past six weeks, they've established enough trust and backstory to know they're from different but strikingly similar worlds. They disagree on the cause - Grace is leaning towards a wormhole or maybe even a multiverse, Simon seems more stuck on a spiritual interpretation of jumping to an elsewhere, just like the Quiet Rapture in his own world already implied happened years ago - but they've established that it seems real. The mistrust about the other lying about basic facts has dissolved into acceptance that they're somehow both right.
But it hasn't turned into complete trust about everything else. Grace can guess why Simon doesn't want to fall asleep more often than he has to, but he doesn't know details.
He scans the room, sees the usual mechanical detritus on the table alongside Simon's laptop - the third and last one on the Hail Mary, meant for the dead third crew member - but no Simon. The chair is flipped over, however.
"Aw, crud. We missed him." Grace pants, hands on hips.
Rocky warbles up above him in his tunnel, the notes sounding concerned. "No. Simon here. Simon hide in supply closet B, but Rocky hears him."
"That sonar is really helpful and also really spooky, bud."
Rocky rushes over to the side of the room he mentioned, and stomps his feet in a rhythmic pattern that Grace has come to interpret as the Eridian equivalent of fidgeting with your hands. "Rocky get mobility unit, question?"
"I think I can handle it." Rocky's hamster ball is back in the dormitory.
Grace steps towards the closet, expecting to have an awkward standoff with a guy who is understandably going to be embarrassed he got caught post-nightmare by the guys he's expressly tried to avoid have watching him sleep. (Grace had had to have more than one conversation to convince Rocky to leave him be, that he could listen through the walls for him but that Simon got to decide if and when he was okay with the watch-sleep ritual.) He's sort of doubting he should bother him at all, honestly, since he is hiding in a closet. But he's still a little worried something is genuinely wrong - it's not very Simon of him to hide at all. Not like this.
So he keeps coming closer, but Rocky must pick up on his hesitation. Rocky stomps as if to tell Grace to hurry up.
"Simon heart fast. Bad, bad, bad!"
"Okay. Okay. Hey, uh- Simon?" No answer. Goosebumps jump up along graces arms. "Simon, you in there?" Obviously he's in there. Presumably, Simon can hear them, and also knows that they know he's in there, and he's probably embarrassed. Grace knows he would be if the roles were reversed. But his anxiety about the first living human he's seen in years won't let him back down. "Simon, hey, just lemme know if you're okay?" He knocks.
And that's what finally gets him a response.
"Don't!" It's almost a wail. Grace jumps backwards and Rocky lets out a brief screech of sound. Rocky runs back and forth above Grace's head.
"Rocky get mobility device, question? Rocky stay, Grace need help, question? Grace, open door! Simon not well, statement!"
Worries about privacy simply evaporate in the face of the terror that grips Grace, Between the scream and Rocky's panic infecting him too. He wrenches the door open, and light filters into the small storage closet.
He is absolutely not sure what to think about what he sees for several seconds.
The space is small - probably barely as deep as Grace is tall, and only a little wider, with a lower ceiling than the lab. About half the space is taken up by shelving and stacked PPE, microscope slides, and other single-use items that would just overflow the main room if all of it was kept out in the open. The Hail Mary might be utilitarian in many ways, but they have backups upon backups of everything chosen to come with them.
And curled up at the back, against the wall and very unsuccessfully trying to hide himself behind the edge of a box of hazmat suits, is Simon.
Grace stares. Simon stares back, seemingly frozen. He's sitting on the floor, legs curled up, hand halfway through shielding his face. The lighting isn't great, but his cheeks and eyes shine in a way that clearly show he's been crying. A lot.
"Oh my gosh," Grace starts, panic lurching into sympathy and quickly joined by shock. "Simon?"
Is he injured? Are the lingering radiation sickness symptoms getting to him tonight, did he just puke out his literal intestines and now he's come in here to die quietly without bothering anyone? Did he hurt himself on the equipment because he's sleep-deprived and he's, what, embarrassed or something and it was the last straw? Grace can understand the harrowing reality of frustrated tears, even if he's never seen Simon have them. Honestly, locking himself in the back of a closet for a nice, intense, private cry sounds like maybe the most well-adjusted and familiar thing he could imagine Simon doing, considering what bits and pieces of his adventures Grace has gathered so far.
Grace is literally rocking foot to foot with anxious energy. He's about to ask another question, but Simon finally speaks.
"Don't," he repeats, looking up at Grace. There is…a concerning lack of recognition in his eyes. Just terror. "Don't, no, nononono please I'll be good, I'm sorry, I'm sorry–"
"Woah! Calm down, hang on – what?" Grace runs his hands up through his hair, presumably making his bedhead worse. "Simon, are you… You know it's me, right? It's Grace?"
Fudge, are they not close enough for that to be comforting? What the heck is happening? Is Simon still dreaming? …Yeah, yeah he's got to still be dreaming. Sleepwalking during a nightmare or something, hid in the closet, now he thinks he's been caught by a dream-monster.
"Simon heart too fast, Grace fix! Rocky leave, go get mobility device. Rocky help!"
Grace doesn't answer Rocky as he runs off, just slowly puts up both of his hands and instinctively crouches down. Simon has no recognition in his face and is still babbling pleas, so Grace doesn't stop until he's kneeling on the ground. "Hey," he says, voice soft. He'd been a teacher for plenty long enough to recognize panic attacks. "It's okay. You're okay. I'm not gonna hurt you, Simon."
Simon pulls up short for a second, gasping like he can't breathe. "Don't make me go back."
Oh god, this again. Grace's whole heart aches - that had been a familiar refrain during the first week or so of Simon joining them. It took a while for him to believe that Grace didn't work for any of the governments Simon knew, that he wasn't just fixing up their doomed prisoner to get sent back down on a suicide mission. Okay. Okayokayokay, Grace can handle this.
"I won't." He promises instantly. It's a shame he doesn't have his glasses on - he's pretty sure they make him look dorkier and less intimidating. Or his kids thought so, anyway. He thinks adults feel the same way, but he's got way less experience comforting them. "You're staying right here on the ship, Simon. I promise." He eases forward a little, reaches a hand out. Simon cringes back, but he doesn't try to crawl away, and he stops crying in order to study Grace. Grace takes that as a good sign and keeps inching closer. "It's Grace. You remember me?"
Simon shakes his head.
"That's okay. I'm a friend." Feels almost like a lie, but he wants it to be true, so it'll do for now. It won't be as comforting if he says 'we've got a weird situation going on, but I trust you and want you to stick around and talk your ear off, and you're getting better at tolerating me'. "And you're dreaming. Okay? That's why everything seems so scary right now."
Simon's forehead creases. "...Dreaming?"
"Yeah. This is just a dream. No one's making you do anything you don't want to do tonight, alright?" Grace is close enough to touch him. He keeps his hand outstretched.
Simon looks up at him through tear-clumped lashes, and slowly reaches out the hand he'd been holding up to protect his face. His big hand, dotted in scars and healing scrapes, is shaking.
Grace feels a familiar spark when their skin connects. It's been heaven and hell, having another human on board after so long - they've had some contact, but not enough. Grace knows the psychological effects of being touch starved, he knows he's been suffering from them, but he also knows he can't just demand to cuddle the new guy who is clearly traumatized and keeping his careful distance. Grace isn't even sure how that works - he never had that back on Earth.
He tries to stay focused on Simon instead of his own weeping heart. "See? You're safe."
Simon's lower lip wobbles in a way that reminds Grace of his kids so much it actually hurts. He squeezes Simon's hand without thinking. "Promise?" Simon asks. He looks so open and vulnerable that Grace can't look away.
"Promise."
Simon's eyes close, and he takes the first deep breath Grace has seen so far. He's still crying, but he seems to be responding to what Grace is saying.
"Come on, let's get out of the closet." Grace goes to stand up, but Simon gasps and grabs his hand tighter. Even down an arm, Simon feels heavier and more solid than him, and Grace stumbles at the unexpected pull. "What the– no, Simon, it's okay." Irritation flares before Grace remembers the situation. "Remember? You're dreaming, so you're confused. But you're safe here, and we're gonna get you into an actual bed so you can sleep the rest of the night normally. Okay?"
Despite how this started, Grace is really expecting that to be it. He imagines Simon will get up, maybe be a bit fragile or zombie-like, and allow himself to be sleepwalk-led over to his cot, and then hopefully sleep the rest of the night without incident.
"But…" Simon is starting to look around the cramped closet. He looks lost - Grace wonders if he's starting to come out of the nightmare, so he's confused? He really doesn't know how this works. He's got so much to ask Mary about later. "But I don't…" Simon looks back at Grace. Grace does his best to look unintimidating and safe. He gives a small smile.
Simon bursts back into tears.
Grace takes his hand back - Simon let go, instead fisting his remaining hand in the fabric of his own shirt. Frustration bubbles up alongside Grace's fear.
"Grace? Simon still hurt, statement. What wrong, question?"
Grace turns briefly to confirm that Rocky's reappeared in his hamster ball. He could just barely fit in the closet door that way, but Grace is blocking it and Rocky doesn't need him to move to 'see' Simon anyway. "...I don't know, bud."
Rocky taps at the ground to see better. Grace turns back towards Simon to do the same.
"I'm pretty sure he's sleepwalking. Humans sometimes can move around a lot in their sleep, even seem like they're awake - so I think that's what he's got going on. We can ask Armando about his brainwaves later to doublecheck, if Simon wants. But if he won't leave the closet, I can't… I mean, we can't drag him back out." Grace doesn't want to leave Simon crying on the floor, but he equally doesn't want to enlist Rocky's help in pulling an unwilling guy from his hiding spot. It brings up memories of himself crying, pleading, screaming, and being hauled away anyway… No, if Simon won't move, then Grace will leave him be.
Simon needs help, sure, but Simon's also entitled to have his breakdown wherever he wants if he doesn't want help.
Rocky doesn't agree, of course. "Simon can't sleep in closet. Simon hurt. Humans fragile. Simon has slept four hours in the past fifty-two point eight-nine-three hours. Simon needs human bed and human pillow."
It's sweet, it really is. Grace just gives Rocky a small smile and, feeling a little like he swallowed glass, turns away towards the closet door. "C'mon Rock, if he feels better in here, we gotta leave him. It's his choice."
Rocky bangs two of his limbs against the xenonite walls in clear frustration, but - piping and chiming with untranslated swears - he rolls back out of Grace's way so he can leave the closet.
"Simon, I'm gonna leave the door open so you know you can leave if you want to. Okay?"
Simon, who is still crying like someone just ripped his heart out of his chest, looks up, sniffling. Again, zero recognition. It's eerie and it hurts. Grace clears his throat. "If you want to stay in there, you can. I'm gonna be in the next room if you wake up and uh…need anything."
He takes two steps to the door, and then Simon croaks, "Wait."
Grace freezes. He turns back. "Yeah?"
Simon is staring at him now, and the eye contact is unnervingly new but familiar. It's weird, if Grace didn't know any better, he'd almost say that Simon looks a lot like his kids back on–
"Where's my mom?"
Grace feels his heart skip. "What?"
Simon cringes but doesn't look away. "W-where is she?"
Grace literally feels his ability to speak evaporate for several seconds. He couldn't name his emotions if someone threatened to throw him out the airlock without his EVA suit.
"Simon want mother, question?" Rocky asks. His chimes sound intrigued. "But Hail Mary only carry two humans–"
"Ah ah ah!" Grace spins around, finger on his lips, sheer instinct taking over. "Not now, Rocky! Please, just…" He shakes his head. Rocky mimics the shake with his carapace, whistling softly, and then settles down and watches Simon through Grace's legs. Literally.
Grace turns back. He is so out of his element here, but wow, he cannot tell the truth about this right now. Dream or delusion or sudden head trauma symptom, whatever it is, his heart is telling him to lie. "She's. Uh." Grace gestures awkwardly with a hand outside the closet. "On a…trip. So I'm watching you. I'm a uhhh, a friend of your mother's." What the heck is happening! What is going on!
Simon sniffles. He doesn't look happy, but he also looks shockingly credulous. "When will Mom be back?"
Holy cow. Oh wow, Grace feels like a monster lying about this, but it can't be good for Simon's brain to be honest right now, right? "Uhh, tomorrow morning!" Maybe he can get Simon to bed now, though, and then they can laugh about this tomorrow. Grace does not feel like laughing.
Simon curls over his bent knees, closed fist curled into the fabric of his pants. He looks surprisingly small collapsed into himself, despite being the biggest person on the whole ship. "...I want Mom now."
Teacher-mode is quickly kicking in. "Aw, I know buddy, but she'll be back after you wake up." The sentence comes to him so easily it actually makes Grace feel a little better, too. He doesn't know what level of dreaming or hallucination is causing Simon to sound like a little kid, but he also doesn't think he needs to be a psychiatrist to understand that fear can make you want someone around to take care of you. Isn't that like, a whole thing, of soldiers crying out for their moms while they were injured and dying?
Just get them both through this. Just get them through this, and Grace can panic about it and figure it out later.
"How about you follow me to your bed? Then morning'll come quicker…" He tempts, voice going just a little sing-song.
Simon sniffs and watches him through the curtain of his hair, seemingly unconvinced but he unclenches his fist. "...I don't remember where my bed is." He admits, seeming embarrassed.
Well, Grace supposes that makes sense. He mentally puts another check in the 'concussion after effects' column. "That's okay. I'll show you." He reaches out a hand.
This time, after considering it for a few moments, Simon reaches up. Grace grunts with the effort of helping him up - Simon doesn't just use him for balance, he really does seem to expect to be lifted up off the ground - and helps steady Simon once he's on his feet.
Rocky is completely silent where he watches them turn from the closet. He taps his limbs on the ground, clearly watching them closely through the added echolocation, but he doesn't offer up commentary or questions. Grace has a feeling they're going to need a long talk after this.
The walk back to the dormitory is, thankfully, uneventful. That doesn't mean it doesn't still feel surreal. Simon holds Grace's hand the entire way, something that Grace is horribly grateful for and also guilty about, since he's pretty sure Simon will wake up embarrassed tomorrow and not be happy about this. But the human touch is nice, and Simon seems to soak in the mild affection just from that, and it's nice being able to take and provide this comfort.
"Here we are." Grace gestures at the bed. Simon wavers before clambering into it, Grace reaching out instinctively to ensure he doesn't unbalance when he seems to struggle with navigating himself down under the covers. "You'll feel better when you wake up. Promise."
Simon had to let go of Grace's hand to get himself into the bed, since he only has one arm for balancing against the thin mattress. But he reaches out as soon as Grace straightens up away from him, flinching back once he catches himself doing it. "...you're leaving?"
Grace pauses. He hears the slow sound of Rocky rolling into the room behind them. "Do…you want me to watch you sleep?" He asks, incredulous. As if there's anything left to surprise him with, still.
"Rocky will watch Pebble Simon sleep, statement." He rolls into view finally, movements oddly slow and careful for him.
Simon's eyes go wide at the sight of Rocky, and for a moment Grace panics, thinking that if Simon's brain is scrambled enough to think he's on a different station near his mom and not recognizing Grace, he's about to freak out about seeing an alien. But Simon just gasps in delight. "Oh, wow… I'd heard of dogs, but I didn't know they could look like that! Or talk."
Grace just. He really has nothing to say to that. His eyebrows rise up his forehead, but this is a best-case scenario misunderstanding, so he decides to bite his tongue and not correct him. He does, however, turn down to look at Rocky.
"'Pebble'?" He whispers, knowing Rocky will always hear him.
"Rocky ignore Grace now. Watch Simon sleep, statement."
"Wow, rude." Grace just dealt with all that, for this kind of attitude? Except, now that Rocky is offering to take over, he can feel his own exhaustion creeping back in. He was sleeping himself, when this all started.
"Correction. Rocky watch Simon Grace sleep, statement."
"Yeah, yeah, okay. Thanks." Grace steps away from the bed, and Rocky rolls closer, settling in for his watch. Rocky doesn't so much as place himself midway between their cots - if he wasn't contained to the xenonite ball, he'd be within his own limbs' distance of Simon's bed. Grace is a little jealous, he won't lie, but he's also grateful he's got help. Whatever the heck this was, it was a lot.
Grace stops when he gets to his own bed, however.
He stares at it, then bends down to gather something in his arms, and walks back over to Simon's bed. "Uh, just– before you go to sleep. So you don't get cold." It's the quilt, the one with all the bright-colored good luck symbols and well-wishes from Earth. Normal Simon has told Grace he's never been on Earth in his life, that he lived on Mars before being sent to a space station, that Earth doesn't even exist anymore. Simon also showed up on the Hail Mary with even fewer personal possessions than Grace did.
Grace finds he wants him to have this tonight. He'd wrapped it around himself during a lot of breakdowns - now it's Simon's turn.
Simon touches it with wide eyes. "For me?"
"Yeah." Grace finds it hard to make steady eye contact when Simon looks so vulnerable and sad and when Grace isn't even sure he'll remember any of this tomorrow. "For you."
"Thank you." Simon whispers, and when he lays back down, he pulls it all the way up to his chin, nuzzling into it like a cat.
Grace looks back down at Rocky as he steps away. "We need to talk tomorrow," he barely breathes, but he knows Rocky hears him.
Rocky only waves at him, maybe not wanting to trigger the translator into making sudden noises. He stays stationed at Simon's bedside while Grace himself settles into his cot, and Grace is comforted knowing that the both of them are finally in the same room together while he's sleeping.